


You're the Only Place I Call Home

by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)



Series: i never knew anybody til' i knew you [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Bus Ride (Good Omens), Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, hurt comfort bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahyperactiverhero/pseuds/ahyperactivehero
Summary: 2. “Stay here tonight.” and 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”Crowley and Aziraphale have a discussion at Crowley's flat after the Almost End of the World.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: i never knew anybody til' i knew you [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1388029
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82





	You're the Only Place I Call Home

**2\. “Stay here tonight.” and 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”**

“You can stay at my place, if you like,” Crowley said, offering his home to Aziraphale. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had spent the night under the same roof (and hopefully not the last now that they had averted the apocalypse), but it did feel different this time. 

Aziraphale’s bookshop was gone. In all of human history, of all the places that Crowley ever expected to disappear, he had never pegged the angel’s shop to be one to go. It seemed timeless, just as immortal as they were. It was wrong that it was gone, along with all of the angel’s other possessions.

“I-I don’t think my side would like that,” Aziraphale said, looking away. Crowley could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out what he should do. There was no way that the bookshop could possibly be salvaged, at least not in a single night, and there was no way either one of them had enough miracles or energy left for too many other options.

“You don’t have a side anymore,” Crowley said. Which was true. Aziraphale had defied Heaven to come back to Earth to help avert the apocalypse. It’s not exactly like they were just going to open up their arms to him. “Neither of us do.” He waited until Aziraphale was looking at him to continue speaking, hoping to convey everything he wanted to say to the angel with his next words. “We’re on our own side.”

He seemed to consider his words, the gears slowing down a bit and looking a hell of a lot less likely to burn out inside his mind. Thankfully, the bus came soon after and both of them were spared from having to say anything else.

Crowley leaned his head against the glass, trying desperately to ignore the way every slight movement seemed to bash his head back into it. He was far too tired to care about anything as simple as that, far too gone to care much about anything if he were honest.

He jumped as he felt Aziraphale shift next to him. Usually, they made it a point to not sit next to each other on the bus, plausible deniability and all that garbage, yet here they were, sitting in the same shared seats with their legs constantly brushing against each other.

“My dear, that can’t be comfortable,” Aziraphale said after Crowley's head made a particularly loud smack against the window. 

It wasn’t, but Crowley wasn’t exactly looking for comfortable at the moment. Just something still enough to lay his head down against.

“Here,” Aziraphale said, and reached over to reposition him.

Carefully, his hand guided Crowley’s head to his shoulder, giving him something far softer and warmer than the cool window he’d been leaning against.

“Angel-” he said, intending to protest, but he didn’t get very far.

“Shh,” Aziraphale said. His arm was wrapped around his back, swirling small circles and strange patterns as the bus rolled on. “It’s alright.”

“Stay with me,” Crowley said softly. His eyes were so heavy that he could feel himself starting to drift off, the bus’s jerks and bumps no longer an issue. “Stay at my place?”

He didn’t even hear if Aziraphale had an answer because he was asleep within the next breath.

X

He woke up on the bus outside of his flat due to the gentle shaking from the angel. “We’re here,” Aziraphale said, although that had been obvious.

Neither one of them knew what to say as they exited. Should they talk about everything that had happened? Should they discuss what they were going to do next since Heaven and Hell were both going to be coming for them, and likely sooner rather than later?

He stood on his doorstep, his hand extended to Aziraphale. The light from across the street seemed to have been placed perfectly, as it was at just the right angle to light up Aziraphale’s bright hair and make it shine like a halo.

“Stay here tonight?” he asked.

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile. “Of course,” he said. “I’ve already agreed to at least twice now.” 

Crowley could feel his face heat up, but he refused to blush. “Just wanted to make sure,” he said, as if he hadn’t slept through Aziraphale’s first reply.

The walk up to his flat seemed so much longer than it normally did. Why did he have to go for a view? Why couldn’t he have settled for a bottom floor apartment?

“Here we go,” Crowley said, “Home sweet home.” 

With a snap of his fingers the door swung open, revealing his living space to Aziraphale.

He tried to picture what it looked like to Aziraphale. He couldn’t remember the last time Aziraphale had been in a place Crowley had called his own, but it had at least been a few decades. 

It was a nice flat, fancy by some standards, and had taken him more than his fair share of demonic miracles to acquire. He had lots of things, souvenirs from his escapades and adventures and run-ins (usually having something to do with Aziraphale), but most of them were hidden away in different rooms. 

The most that was visible from the front door was the spacious leather couch, the glass coffee table he’d slammed his shins into far too many times to count, his rather large TV and movie collections, and his abundance of plants.

It was dark, and not just because of the low light. Most of his furniture and decorations were black, which helped to suck up any and all light.

Aizraphale seemed frozen in the doorway, as if he wasn’t sure if he should enter or not. Crowley knew that he would eventually come inside, but he didn’t have the energy to stand around until he decided to do so.

“Help yourself to anything,” Crowley said, waving his hand around the apartment. He’d intended to escape to the bathroom to shower or change clothes or anything that would help him feel a little more alive, but he only made it as far as the couch before he collapsed on it.

It seemed like Aziraphale had snapped back to reality at his words, as he quickly stepped inside and shut the door. His eyes wandered all over the room, still taking in everything, before zeroing in on Crowley sprawling on the couch.

Crowley waved him over, gesturing for the angel to have a seat. The couch was plenty big for both of them to lay out on it if they so wished, plus he figured that was what a good host would do. Didn’t they usually offer food, drinks, a seat?

Well, one out of three isn’t the worst he’s ever done.

The couch dipped as Aziraphale sat down near him, close enough that he could barely move and touch him if he so wished. But he didn’t. He could see from the corner of his eye that the angel was sitting just as primly as he always did, as if Crowley’s couch might somehow sully his vintage outfit.

“You can relax, you know,” Crowley said. His body had already melted into the couch, the urge to turn into a snake and slither down into the cushions was almost overwhelming. “I doubt that they’ll come for us tonight.”

“Right,” Aziraphale said. His eyes were still moving across the room, as if he were looking for something.

Something clicked in the back of Crowley’s mind. “I’m sorry about the bookshop, angel,” Crowley said. “Honestly. I-I tried to do something, but it was too late. It was already on fire by the time I got there.”

Aziraphale nodded, his hands twitching in his lap. “I understand,” he said. “It’s not your fault. That was Shadwell and I.”

Crowley nodded, even though he still didn’t fully understand what had happened. There would be time to discuss it later, when he wasn’t on the verge of passing out asleep, when he wasn’t desperately trying to stay awake to make sure his angel was alright.

“I liked it,” Crowley said, surprising Aziraphale. “Your bookshop. It was cozy, homey.” He glanced around the room they were sitting in (or at least Aziraphale was sitting, Crowley was doing what he did best, which was sprawling), and couldn’t help but note how it didn’t feel like a home.

“It’s not much, but you can stay here. For as long as you want,” Crowley said. He closed his eyes so Aziraphale might not see them, despite the fact that he was still wearing his glasses. “I know it’s not a home, but we could try something, anything really. I’ve got some books that I’ve nicked from your shop over the years in a spare room, and I’d even be willing to move some of the plants to other rooms so you could have plenty of space for your shelves and-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said. His hands were suddenly on Crowley’s face, halting his words. “You don’t have to do that.”

Crowley shook his head, grunting as he sat up as quick as possible. “But I do!” he said. “Because I want you to have a home! You deserve a home.”

The softest smile Crowley had ever seen in his six thousands years of existence graced the angel’s face. It was so gentle, so genuine, it felt like Crowley had been punched in the ribs and had all of his oxygen stolen from him.

“You don’t need to do any of that,” he said again. “Because you’ve always felt like home to me.” He ducked his head, his face as red as could be. Crowley could feel the way his hands shook on his face, and one of them moved up towards the back of his head. “You, my dear, have always been the one consistent home that I have ever had.”

“But,” Crowley said softly. “But Heaven! And the bookshop!”

“I love my bookshop,” Aziraphale said, clearly ignoring Heaven. He closed his eyes as he spoke, like he might be picturing his shop now. “And I’d do almost anything to have it back.” The hand that had moved to the back of Crowley’s head was now fiddling with his hair, the grim likely coating Aziraphale pristine hands. “But I would give it all up if it meant that you and I could be safe, just like this, for at least the rest of the night.”

Crowley didn’t hesitate after that. He shot forward, his own hands coming up to Aziraphale’s face, keeping it in place as he kissed him harder than he had honestly intended to. He felt their noses bash against each other, their teeth clack more than once, but it was perfect. There was nothing that he would have ever changed about it.

Eventually, Aziraphale leaned back, his face red and his lips chapped. Crowley was positive that he looked the same way, except he also had the misfortune of being covered in ash and soot. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, the amazement still in his voice.

“Yes, angel?” Crowley asked his glasses sliding down his nose so he could properly look at him.

A strange look came across Aziraphale’s face, one that if Crowley hadn’t known better he might have said was almost murderous. 

“When exactly were you going to tell me that you’ve been stealing books from my bookshop?”

“Oh,” he said. “Um, well, it was a good thing, you see! Now you get to keep some of your books!”

Aziraphale seemed like he wanted to say more, but was cut off by a yawn that suddenly came from Crowley. His face softened yet again as he leaned back against the couch. Using one hand to guide him, he forced Crowley to lay back down, this time pillowing his head in his lap.

“Get some rest, dear,” he said. “We can discuss what we’re going to do in the morning.” 

Crowley closed his eyes, and as he faded away he pictured himself bathing in Holy Water and Aziraphale standing in Hellfire and neither one of them dying.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short fic I wrote about a year ago now! I originally posted it on my tumblr, so I thought I would move it over here! The title is based on the song Only Place I Call Home by Every Avenue. If anyone has any other things they'd like to see from some prompt blogs just let me know over on my tumblr (ahyperactivehero), and I'll see what I can do!


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